


Butterfly Repairs

by badgerdactyl



Category: Puyo Puyo
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Mild Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 14:39:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14404227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badgerdactyl/pseuds/badgerdactyl
Summary: Sig put his hands on her shoulders. “Amitie. Breathe, okay?”Amitie stopped and closed her eyes, taking two shuddery, shakey breaths. “I think he’s hurt really really bad,” she said, opening her eyes and holding out her hands. “He can’t even fly. Is there anything you can do to help him?”





	Butterfly Repairs

Amitie sprinted from the flower fields, clutching her hands against her chest. Her heart pounded and her eyes burned as she dashed past the town and through the woods, nearly stumbling over rocks and overgrown roots. She stopped at the edge of a clearing, catching her breath and blinking back tears as she noticed a familiar cottage. Nodding to herself, she charged for the door, nearly barreling into it headfirst. She held out her right hand, leaving her left held tightly to her chest, and started knocking. “Sig?” she called. “Sig! Oh, please tell me you’re home, Sig!”

After what felt like an eternity of knocking, the door finally swung open. Sig stood in the doorway, lackadaisically rubbing his eye. “Amitie,” he asked, “what’s wrong?”

“Oh, thank goodness!” she exhaled, slumping her shoulders. She quickly picked herself back up and started gesticulating with her free hand. “I was in the flower fields, okay? Just kind of minding my own business, enjoying the weather and the flowers and everything when, all of a sudden  _ woooosh!! _ This huge bird dived down next to me and it took me a second to see what was going on and I tried to shoo it away but I wasn’t really fast enough and so I ran over here -”

Sig put his hands on her shoulders. “Amitie. Breathe, okay?”

Amitie stopped and closed her eyes, taking two shuddery, shakey breaths. “I think he’s hurt really really bad,” she said, opening her eyes and holding out her hands. “He can’t even fly. Is there anything you can do to help him?”

Sig looked down, his eyes widening as he stared at the monarch butterfly cupped in Amitie’s hands. It crawled around a little bit, twitching its antennae and trying to flap its torn wing. Carefully, he took his hands into hers and moved the butterfly into his clawed left hand. He held it close to his face, taking a long look at the damage done to its right wing. “Ok,” he said at last with a nod. “Let’s go.”

“Huh?” Amitie tilted her head, her hands still held out between them.

“The wing can be fixed. Come on,” he said, turning around and waving her into the cottage.

“Thank goodness,” she sighed, smiling as she wiped the tears from her eyes and stepped into the cottage. She closed the door behind her and looked around the living room, noticing the several bug nets and cages lined against one of the walls. “You know,” she said with a laugh, “your place is a lot cleaner than I thought it would be!”

Sig said nothing as he lead her into the kitchen. He stood still for a moment before walking towards the counter and standing on his tiptoes. He pulled out a small mason jar from the top cabinet and gentle placed the butterfly inside. Then, with a smile, he walked over to the refrigerator and set the jar inside on a shelf.

“Wah! Sig, what are you doing?” Amitie cried, running to his side and clutching his sleeve. “Isn’t he going to freeze inside there?”

“Calm down.”

“I-I’m trying to stay calm, but-”

“No,” he interrupted. “It’s going to calm the butterfly down.”

“Oh. Really?” she asked, letting go and taking a step back.

“Yep. It’s scared right now. The cold will help calm it down.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, putting her hand to her heart. “That’s a relief, then. I thought you were gonna turn him into real butter or something!” She tilted her head as Sig started rummaging through the top cabinet again. “Whatcha looking for now?”

“Bigger jar.”

“Oh, for Mr. Butterfly?”

“No,” he replied, dropping down empty handed. He turned towards her and shrugged. “You wouldn’t fit in the fridge, anyway.”

“G-Get real!” she exclaimed. “Sig, are you messing with me?”

“Maybe,” he said, chuckling to himself as he walked to the dining table and started clearing it off. After dropping the plates into the sink, he turned to her and said, “Be right back,” before ducking into the hallway.

Amitie leaned against the counter and smiled as she noticed all of the spices and drawers were meticulously labeled. “I never figured Sig was the organized type,” she said to herself, turning around to look at the rest of the kitchen. She poked her head into the fridge and took another look at the butterfly, who fluttered its wings slowly as she opened the door. “It’s gonna be okay, Mr. Butterfly,” she said softly. “Sig’s the best and he really knows his stuff! He’ll have you fixed up in no time!”

As she closed the door, Sig snuck back into the room, his arms filled with an assortment of items - a towel, a coat hanger, a pair of scissors, a little bottle of glue, and a bottle of talcum powder. He set them on the fair side of the table before laying the towel flat on the side closest to his chair. He stared at the arrangement for a moment before walking over to the sink and turning the faucet on.

“Wow, Sig, you look so serious!” Amitie said leaning over the counter towards him. “It’s like you’re a real bug doctor or something!”

“Yup,” he said as he washed his hands. “Butterfly Doctor Sig, preparing for surgery.”

“So, have you done this kind of thing for other butterflies before?”

“Yup,” he answered with a nod. “A couple times.” He shook his hands in the sink a few times before reaching over and drying his hands with a paper towel.

Amitie fiddled with her bangle. “Do you think I could watch?”

“Sure. No problem,” he replied pulling out a chair for her at the table before retrieving the jar from the fridge. He carefully took the the patient out of the jar and laid it gently on the towel, unfurling its wings before grabbing the coat hanger and weighing it down with the hooked end. He stared at the butterfly for a moment before turning to Amitie. “Can you hold this down?”

“Sure thing!” she said, leaning over and pressing her hands against the hanger.

“Softly,” he said, nodding, before walking back into the hallway. After a minute or two, he emerged with a small case filled with monarch wings

As he sat down, Amitie asked, “Is one of those going to be Mr. Butterfly’s new wing?”

“Ms. Butterfly’s.”

“Huh?” she took another look at the butterfly laid out on the table. “But, it’s so small! I thought you said the boy butterflies were smaller than the girls.”

“Usually,” he said, taking a wing from the case and setting it on the towel. “Monarchs are different. Boys are bigger. And,” he stopped, pointing to the lower half of the butterfly’s remaining wing. “There’s no spot here. She’s a girl.”

“Oh, I see! Sorry, then, Ms. Butterfly!” Amitie watched as Sig took the case back into the hallway and came back into the kitchen. He sat down and grabbed the scissors. “What are those for?”

“Gotta cut the damaged parts off,” he said. Seeing her wince, he added, “It doesn’t hurt. It’s like getting a haircut.”

Amitie let out a relieved sigh as she watched Sig begin to trim the damaged wing. She watched as his hands delicately moved the wing this way and that as he snipped off the torn edges, stopping now and then to hold the new wing over it. She watched as his eyebrows sat knitted in concentration, his blue and red eyes stared laser-focused on the task in front of him. Her eyes trailed upwards as she followed the swoop of his cyan bangs down his forehead and the sides of his face, leading to his mouth, opened and moving - wait… “Ah!” she exclaimed suddenly. “Were you saying something?”

“You don’t have to hold the hanger anymore,” he repeated setting the scissors down and grabbing the glue. “You okay?”

“I’m fine! Totally fine,” she said with a nervous laugh, taking her hands from the hanger and setting them in her lap. “Just a little spaced-out, I guess.” She took a breath to try and regain her focus, though quickly felt her hands drawn to her bangle as she watched Sig start to apply the glue.

“Amitie?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re shaking the table,” he said, pointing to her leg bouncing nervously underneath the table.

“Sorry!” She slammed her hands down onto her knee to try and stop it from moving. With a grumble, she stood up and walked back towards the counter. “I keep getting really anxious about Ms. Butterfly for some reason!” she exclaimed as she turned around. “Is there maybe something else I could do to help?”

Sig hummed to himself as he started aligning the new wing to the old one. “Sugar.”

“Yes?”

“No, um…” he said, trailing off as a light blush dusted his cheeks. “Can you get the sugar? Add a tablespoon to a half cup of water.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, feeling her own cheeks start to burn. “Sure thing!” 

“Ms. Butterfly will probably be hungry.”

Amitie grabbed the sugar bowl from the counter and started rifling through the drawers for a measuring spoon. She measured out the water and sugar into a teacup and started stirring it as she turned towards the table. “What are you doing now?”

“Gotta wait for the glue to dry,” he replied, setting the glue down and hanging his arms at his sides.

“Oh! So, she’s almost all fixed up already!”

“Yup. Easy fix.”

Amitie sighed as she continued stirring the spoon in the teacup. “I’m so glad to hear that. I just ran over here without thinking, really! It wasn’t even until you opened up the door that I started wondering if there was anything you could even to do help or if I had just brought her here to-” she stopped, noticing the splash of sugar-water on her hand. “Well, anyway,” she said, setting the cup down and rinsing her hand at the sink, “I’m really glad you were able to help.”

Sig turned his head towards her and smiled. “You did a good job. You saved her from the bird. You brought here here. You-” he stopped, the smile replacing itself with a deep frown. He lifted his hand and pointed it at her. “You’re hurt.”

“Huh?”

“Your leg. There’s blood.”

Amitie perplexedly stuck her leg out in front of her and looked down, almost jumping back as she noticed the scratch on her knee and the trail of blood dribbling down her leg. “Oh, geez! I didn’t even notice!” She spun around and looked into the living room. “I hope I didn’t track any of it on your floors! I must have scraped it when I picked up Ms. Butterfly!” She traced her steps with her eyes and turned back around to see Sig standing right beside her.

“Here,” he said, offering her a chair. He opened up a drawer and pulled out a box of bandages.

“Let me see the bandages - I’ll take care of it!” she said, walking towards him, hand extended.

“Nope,” he said, standing on his tiptoes and holding the box in the air.

“Really, though, it’s not a problem!” she protested, grabbing the box from him with ease.

“Nope,” he repeated, grabbing a piece of paper towel and wetting it at the sink. “Sit down. You’ve got Butterfly Doctor Sig.”

Amitie threw her hand over her mouth and stifled a giggle. “I’m not a butterfly, though!”

“Amitie Doctor Sig, then,” he corrected, grabbing his chair and bringing it over to hers.

“Get real, you’re so serious about this,” she said with a sigh. Resigning herself with a shrug of her shoulders, she put the box of bandages on the counter and sat down. “I guess I can’t really argue with that, though, huh?” She propped her leg up between them, jumping a little as he grabbed her leg.

“You okay?”

“Yep!” She felt her cheeks start to burn again. “Your hands are just really cold, that’s all.”

“Ah.” Sig looked down and started to wash her leg and the area around the scrape. “You should really be more careful.”

“I know,” she whined, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m a major clutz. I wasn’t even thinking, really. I just kinda dove down to try and help Ms. Butterfly.”

“Still,” he said, “you have to take care of yourself. You’re just as important, okay?”

Amitie let out a giggle. “Knowing how much you love bugs, that’s a really big compliment!” 

Sig said nothing, but smiled as he tossed the paper towel into the trash can and grabbed a bandage. Cautiously, he placed it over the cut on her leg and smoothed it out. “There. All set.”

She stood up and stuck her leg out in front of her. “Wow! That looks so much better,” she said, admiring the ladybug-patterned bandage. “Thank you, Sig!”

Sig stood up and nodded before dragging his chair back over to the table. He bent down and gently brushed his finger over the butterfly’s new wing. “Glue’s mostly dry,” he announced, grabbing the talcum powder.

“What’s that for?” Amitie asked, walking over and peeking over his shoulder.

“Keeps the wings from getting glued together. Just in case,” he explained. He turned slightly and held the bottle out towards her. “Do you want to do it?”

“Me? Oh, sure!” She smiled as she took the bottle and poured some of it into her palm. “Should I use a lot or just a little?”

“Just a little bit. Like this,” he replied, holding his hand up and pretending to take a pinch of powder with the other. As Amitie sprinkled the powder over the butterfly’s wings, Sig grabbed another sheet of paper towel and rolled it in his hands before putting into the teacup. He set it down on the table and looked over at her work. “That’s plenty. Good job.”

“So, how long until she can fly again?” she asked, brushing the leftover powder onto her shorts. “A few days? A week?”

Sig hummed as he sat down and moved the coat hanger. “Maybe by tonight?” he said, picking the butterfly up in his hands.

“Get really real! Are you serious?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, holding the butterfly up to the paper towel ‘straw.’ “Depends on if she feels ready.”

Amitie pulled her chair up to the table and sat down, propping her head up with her hands. “I’ll try not to shake the table this time,” she said with a laugh.

“It’s fine, now,” he said, tilting his head to inspect the new wing.

Amitie leaned forward, admiring her friend’s handiwork. She looked back and forth from the wings, admiring the way the spots mirrored each other and how the orange of the new wing was a near-perfect match to the butterfly’s original color. “You can hardly tell that it’s a new wing,” she said with a sigh. “You did a really good job, Sig!”

Sig lowered his hand and repositioned the butterfly and the teacup. He stared at the butterfly for a moment, tilting his head in the other direction. “Ms. Butterfly was very lucky,” he replied at last.

“Lucky to have the best bug doctor in town!” she added with a smile. Before he could respond, the butterfly started to flutter her wings rapidly in his hand. Almost instantly, she flew out of his hand and landed on Amitie’s nose. “Whoa! Wicked!” she exclaimed softly, leaning back a bit in her seat.

“She likes you,” Sig said, smiling as he stood up. Gently, he took the butterfly onto his fingertip and cupped her in his hands. “Guess she’s ready.”

“What a speedy recovery!” she laughed, jumping out of her chair. “Let’s go see if she can fly now!”

“Come on,” he said, leading her out of the cottage and into the clearing. He looked at the sun setting over the treetops and turned towards Amitie. “You should probably hold her,” he said, peeking down into his hands.

“Huh? Why me?”

“You brought her here,” he said with a shrug. “Plus, your hands are warmer.” Sig held his hands out to hers and let the butterfly walk over to her fingertips, smiling as she giggled. “Try to hold her like this,” he instructed, holding his right hand out with his fingers splayed.

“Like this?” she asked, copying his pose. Seeing his nod, she began to cheer. “Come on, Ms. Butterfly! You can do it! Hey, Sig, you cheer, too!”

“Woo,” he responded dutifully. “Go, Ms. Butterfly.”

“That’s the spirit! Whoa!” The butterfly fluttered her wings and leapt off of Amitie’s fingers. She flew a lap around the two of them, proudly showing off her new wings, before flying over the treetops towards the setting sun. Amitie stood with her hand hanging in the air, dumbfounded, as the butterfly faded from her view. “I’m so glad,” she said, dropping her arm to her side, “that you were able to help her. Thank you so much, Sig.”

Sig turned towards her and put his hand on her shoulder. “You brought her here, Amitie,” he repeated with a smile. “Thank you.”

“Fine, then.” Amitie turned towards him and smiled, wiping a tear from her eye. “It was a team effort,” she said, putting her hand on his head and tousling his hair. Her smile dropped as she watched his eyes widen and she pulled her hand back as if she had touched a hot stove. “Whoopsie! Uh, sorry! I wasn’t thinking!” she babbled quickly. “Anyway, I guess I should start heading home - I mean, it’s getting pretty late and-”

He stepped closer and grabbed her hand. He paused for a second before burying his face into her shoulder and returning her hand to the top of his head.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, her face turning as red as her Puyo cap. “Did you like having your hair played with?”

Sig hummed as he nodded his head.

“I guess I should do it more often, then!” she said, laughing as she patted his head. “Geez, you’re kinda like a big cat, aren’t you?”

Sig said nothing and stood motionless.

“Sig?”

No response.

“Sig~?” Amitie leaned in close and heard the distinct, steady rumble of Sig snoring beside her. “Oh, get really real!” she exclaimed with a laugh. “You’ll fall asleep anywhere won’t you? I guess it’s Sig Doctor Amitie’s turn, then. First things first, I’m prescribing you one really good night’s rest.” With another chuckle, she took his arm around his shoulder and started walking him back into the cottage.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to just be headpats and it quickly spiraled out of control...  
> Comments, questions, corrections and criticisms are super appreciated! <3


End file.
